Tuesday, November 24, 2015

God With Us

When I mentally step back and take a bird's eye view of salvation history, one of the most awe-inspiring thoughts to me is the fact that God interacts with man. Beginning at creation when God created man in His image and walked and talked with him in the garden, through the Fall when sin created the unbreachable crevasse of separation between God and man, and then on through the ages when God longs to fellowship with those whose hearts will respond to Him in faith, the fact that God desires and pursues intimate relationship with His creation is simply mind-boggling. The God of the universe, the Creator of the world and the galaxies, the infinite, eternal, holy God wants fellowship with his creatures. If this truth weren't undeniably revealed to us in holy writ, the presumption of the idea would be monstrous.

In the old testament we see God begin the epic work of restoring the relationship lost at the fall. He gave His physical presence to the nation of Israel and dwelt with them through the exodus and years of wandering through the desert, a presence revealed by fire which dwelt over the tabernacle and which led them constantly. They experienced His presence in the fire, earthquakes and smoke of Sinai when they entered into covenant with Him. Later His presence descended on the temple built by Solomon in Jerusalem. This presence continued until the fall of Jerusalem to Babylon at which time “the glory departed”.

After centuries of silence, the story of the pursuit reopens in the new testament. Once again the glory returns, this time in hidden form, the form of a baby. The God of the universe, the Creator of the world and the galaxies, the infinite, eternal, holy God once again seeks fellowship with man, now coming as a redeemer and sacrifice, actually coming in human form to live among us and then die to restore us by paying for our sin and rebellion. It is wonderful beyond comprehension, the condescension and love of God that would cause Him to pay such a great price to have fellowship and communion with His rebellious creation. As the hymn writer cried, “How deep the Father's love for us, how vast beyond all measure!”

But the crowning chapter of God's progressive pursuit of fellowship with His creature comes at Pentecost. The even more unbelievable step of actually indwelling the creature was realized. In every heart that is willing to submit and believe/accept His atoning sacrifice for their sin, God seals the covenant relationship by coming in, by the inexpressible condescension of actually indwelling the creature and making His home in that person. This time there is no earthquake and smoke, no fire (although at pentecost there was the appearance of flames, which would have been loaded with meaning for the Jews!). Just as after His resurrection He “was ever wont to glide, unheralded, into the midst of His disciples through unopened doors”*, He now gently enters our innermost beings and begins the work of transforming us through His presence into what we were meant to be, what we could never become apart from His presence in us. And whatever our stage in that transformation, He fellowships with us in the deepest and most satisfying ways.

Bernard of Clairvaux said it this way:
He entered not by the eyes, for His presence was not marked by color; nor by the ears, for there was no sound; nor by the breath, for He mingled not with the air; nor by the touch, for He was impalpable. You ask, then, how I knew that He was present. Because He was a quickening power. As soon as He entered, He awoke my slumbering soul. He moved and pierced my heart, which before was strange, stony, hard and sick, so that my soul could bless the Lord and all that is within me praised His Holy Name.”

Man, made in the image of God, is now recreated from the inside out through His indwelling presence. He goes about the work of re-creation and establishes the fellowship He has longed for from the beginning. Our hearts can now join with the Psalmist who says, “Lift up your heads, O gates, and be lifted up, O ancient doors, that the King of Glory may come in!” (Psalm 24) Truly He has entered through the gates of our lives and brought His Glory with Him. May our hearts respond in loving submission and obedience to His benevolent reign, purchased at great price for us. What peace and hope and inexpressible joy – God with us!



*FB Meyer, The Secret of Guidance.

Thursday, November 12, 2015

Feasting at the wrong table

In 1886, Frederick B. Meyer, a British pastor and evangelist, wrote these words to those who desired to culture a devout spiritual life:
     We must be still before God.  The life around us, in this age, is preeminently one of rush and effort.  It is the age of the express-train and electric telegraph.  Years are crowded into months, and weeks into days.  This feverish haste threatens the religious life.  The stream has already entered our churches, and stirred their quiet pools.  Meetings crowd on meetings.  The same energetic souls are found at them all, and engaged in many good works beside.  But we must beware that we do not substitute the active for the contemplative, the valley for the mountain-top.  Neither can with safety be divorced from the other.  The sheep must go in and out.  The blood must come back to the heart to be recharged, and fitted to be impelled again to the extremities.
    We must take time to be alone with God.  The closet and the shut door are indispensable.  Happy are they who have an observatory in their heart-house to which they can often retire beneath the great arch of Eternity, turning their telescope to the mighty constellations that turn beyond life's fever, and reaching regions where the breath of human applause or censure cannot follow!
     It is only in such moments that the best spiritual gifts will loom on our vision, or we shall have grace to receive them.  It is impossible to rush into God's presence, catch up anything we fancy, and run off with it.  God's best can not be ours apart from patient waiting in His Holy Presence.  The superficial may be put off with a parable, a pretty story, but it is not given such to know the mysteries of the Kingdom of Heaven.

As I read those words I wondered what FB Meyer would think of our lives today - with not just the "feverish haste" of express-trains but automobiles in which we race from activity to activity.  Not just electric telegraph but each of us with a personal phone through which we constantly access the entire world via a huge web of apps.  I'm sure 30 minutes exposure to this flood of stimulus and media would overwhelm rather than impress him.  And if the spiritual life was threatened by the "feverish haste" of his day, how much more, exponentially more, is that true for us?  Somehow I don't think he could relate to the One Minute Bible.  

This necessity to seek God in the stillness, like a melody repeated in different movements of a symphony, has come to my ears many times over the past few years.  FB Meyer but also Ken Gire, JP Moreland, Richard Swenson, Dallas Willard, Brennan Manning, AW Tozer, Amy Carmichael, Brother Lawrence - just a few of those that point the way back to seeking the better part.  Indeed, this is what has set apart the true spiritual in every age.  To experience the real spiritual riches of God Himself, we MUST make room in our lives for Him.  We can only make room if we are willing to disengage for a time or times at least, from the lesser things.  God does not do anything in haste; He does not pour out the riches of His marvelous truth and presence to the casual inquirer.  It's possible we could go through our entire lives and be only dimly conscious of what we are missing.  We might feast richly at the "fast food" table of this physical life but entirely miss the richer and true delights of God Himself.  "You have let me experience the joys of life and the exquisite pleasure of your own eternal presence."  Psalm 16:11 The Living Bible